Author's Note: Happy May 1st, y'all. I am a woman of my word. I promised a Marshall Goes Apeshit fic and I'm giving it to you. I've had this in reserve since the summer and with a little encouragement from Synnove and my string of Post Finale fics, I think I've finally got something tangible, which is good because I'm not too sure about this one, folks.

Don't get me wrong, I've always loved it when Marshall loses control on the show and in fics but when I try, he remains completely OOC, even at the end. I don't like putting the characters through hell, especially emotionally but that whole fucking Faber thing… anyway, insecurities aside, I'm so looking forward to writing this (because Marshall most definitely deserves to go off) and after all of the angsty yelling (and long overdue honesty), there will be M&M of my usual caliber. And Faber…well read on. And not everything is as it seems in this chapter...you'll know when you read it.

MAJOR SPOILERS FOR THE SEASON 3 FINALE. If you've been under a rock and haven't seen it or afraid to see it because of all the backlash, you're going to be one unhappy camper with me. But, tonight is the night, people! Finally!

Disclaimer: "Honestly, it's not mine!"

He knew that he looked like he would blow up the plane instead of merely using it but a flash of his US Marshal's badge put an end to any prying questions anyone wanted to ask as he stalked through the airport to his departure gate, his suitcase barely closed.

Marshall Mann was up at 2:13AM in his Monty Python pajamas ('Tis only a flesh wound on the shirt and bleeding Black Knights on the pants), sandals, hair uncombed and tangled like he'd been in a wind tunnel, unshaved, and a distinct, primal black rage in his normally soft baby blues. He was a man on a mission and no one was going to stop him from going to Cancun and Mary Shannon.

He was absolutely infuriated with her and this time, there would be no trip to the shooting range or Star Wars marathon or even his oragami to soothe it away. Oh, no. This time, the exotic animal would know that her keeper was displeased and they were going to have it out.

Why, you ask? Why would he break his 7 year old pattern of patience and tolerance of Mary Shannon's hurtful actions towards him and the rest of humanity? What had changed? What happened?

Mike…fucking…Faber. Mike fucking Faber had been his boiling and breaking point. Mary fucking Mike fucking Faber less than 12 hours after Marshall had so obviously (and honestly, somewhat pathetically) put his heart on the line was the end of any benevolence he had towards the woman. She was either going to stop running from their connection or he was leaving. It was as simple as that.

Although he loved her fiercely and would do anything, legal or otherwise for her, Marshall would no longer be her emotional whipping boy and Jiminy Cricket and if she wanted to self destruct, then she could. And... Faber! Of all people she could've picked to scratch her latest cowardly itch….she had picked Faber! Jesus, Raphael would've been better! At least, she had a past with the man and he wasn't nearly as much of an asshole as Faber. Although, Marshall was pretty certain that no one on any planet, in any reality was as much of an asshole as the FBI D-Bag…

Less than an hour ago, he had gotten a call from the smarmy FBI agent, gloating about where he was with his Kitten. How he had "fucked her sweet little pussy" on every surface of the hotel room and on the beach. How he had made her scream and beg him for more. How soft her hair was and how good she tasted. How he had to thank him for not making a move because he was "definitely going to be around for a long time."

Fuck, no. Hell fucking no. Not if Marshall had anything to say about it. Even if he couldn't find Mary, he was going to find Faber and break every bone in his body for taking advantage of her vulnerability.

The last year (hell, the last 2 years) had been heinous towards her. She had been kidnapped, nearly raped, accused of drug running, she found about Lauren and Scott and every other prodigal son that her sleaze father had left in a bassinet. Raph had left her….all of these things alone sucked but combined…underneath all of that brave badassery, Mary was hurting and hurting bad.

And Faber had capitalized on that. Marshall knew how "men" like that worked. He had seen it all the time as a child with his dad. While Seth never touched another woman, he did undermine people by acting like he was just what they needed and then after getting what he wanted from them, leaving like the Baltimore Colts. Mary couldn't take much more battering…

And yet, you're going after her to bitch her out. You sure that's wise, Mann?, his inner voice pointed out.

He sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face as he slumped into his seat, feeling the plane get off of the ground smoothly...

After everything she's done to me, it's going to have to be wise because I can't take this anymore. I can't go on with all these feelings bottled up inside me and if I have to be a complete dick to achieve some form of closure, then I will. Besides, it's not like she hasn't done it to me before.

…true. And you've spent the money, packed the bag, and scared the living shit out of Stan demanding to leave so you're going to have to do this unholy thing. I just hope you know what you're really getting us into here, Marshall. Some of the answers you get out of her may not be what you want to hear…

Well, it was a risk that he was just going to have to take.